


Like Buses

by moondoor_majesty



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondoor_majesty/pseuds/moondoor_majesty
Summary: Two women with a thing for Liv Chenka, one small-ish couch, and a lot of wine.
Relationships: Liv Chenka/Helen Sinclair, Liv Chenka/Tania Bell, Liv Chenka/Tania Bell/Helen Sinclair
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	Like Buses

**Author's Note:**

> Set shortly after the end of Stranded 1. In a perfect world, they'd just become a thruple, right?

“It’s like they’re speaking in code...” Helen remarks, quietly – a concentrated look on her face as she peers at the small, bright screen in her hands. “And have mostly forgotten how spelling and grammar works. At least, I assume they’re attempting to communicate in English... unless they’ve developed a brand-new form of it, in the last couple decades.”

Her confusion takes a sudden turn towards intrigue, as the language scholar to Liv’s left ponders out the mysteries of written communication in the early 21st Century.

“You’re getting addicted to that thing,” Liv comments. Helen’s spent more time looking at her phone, in the last hour, than she has watching the other, larger screen across from the sofa. Lifting away from Tania for a moment, Liv leans in to have a peak at whatever’s got Helen’s attention. Helen’s right. It’s completely indecipherable – aside from the odd word like ‘and’ or ‘the’ or ‘deserves to have his house set on fire’. “That’s... wow. Almost makes the socio-virtual networks look kind, civilized. What are they so angry about, anyway?”

“I should have warned you about Twitter,” Tania tells Helen – just before Helen answers Liv’s question.

“The show we’re watching. Far as I can tell.”

“Ah – well, now I get it,” Liv says – plucking up her wine glass from the coffee table. She hears a certain indignant noise, from Tania. “What? It’s the same plot, every time. You’d think by now, these detectives would realize it’s literally always the second person they meet who’s done it, and stop wasting their time. ‘Oh, that suspiciously-helpful co-worker, keen on pinning the blame on someone else while looking just the _right_ amount of ‘distraught’ to throw off suspicion? Couldn’t possibly be them. Let’s let them go free, and act very, _very_ surprised when a second body turns up.’”

“It’s more about the characters...” Tania offers.

“Well, it can’t be about the cases.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” Tania laughs, drawing Liv back in towards her.

“Yeah? Well... you’re lucky I like you enough, to sit through it,” she returns – _much_ enjoying the feel of the other woman’s arm around her waist. The comfort of her, in general. It’s so different, getting to indulge in something like this – but, really nice.

“You should hear her go off at that science fiction program _I_ like,” Helen says, taking another drink from her own glass and drawing her legs up onto the couch, more comfortably. “She’s worse than the Doctor.”

“It’s... their spaceship doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, a team of writers from 2020 _would_ know what a historically-accurate spaceship from the 29th Century is supposed to look like.”

“But I _do_ ,” Liv protests, despite knowing how silly of a thing it is to take issue with.

“You should definitely write a letter telling them that,” Helen kids. Her chin comes to rest on Liv’s shoulder, as she leans across her to ask Tania something else about the app. Something Liv isn’t really paying attention to, herself, so much as she’s preoccupied by the _amount_ of Helen, pressed against her.

It never really goes away – that particular spark, whenever Helen sits a bit too close, or looks at her, in a way Liv’s always hoped means more than it probably does.

The buzzer for downstairs goes off, quite suddenly, before Liv can get too far into those thoughts – and Helen promptly excuses herself to fetch the food they’d ordered in, leaving Liv to stare after her for a little too long, before swinging her feet up onto the vacant patch of sofa and lounging even more fully against Tania.

“I’ve been wondering...” Tania begins, absently drawing her fingers down and up along Liv’s thigh. Making Liv wish there wasn’t a layer of tight denim between her skin and Tania’s. Well, at least there won’t be, later...

“Wondering what?” Given their recent talk in that pub, this could be about anything. The TARDIS, Kaldor, some various planet or enemy Liv mentioned but didn’t really go into much detail about...

She takes another drink, awaiting Tania’s question.

“Are you and Helen...were you a couple, once? Before you came here?”

Some of the wine goes down the wrong way– at Liv’s surprise. “You think I’ve been travelling around the universe and now sharing a flat with my ex? What – what makes you think that? Is this because I thought you and Andy...?”

“No. I’m just curious, that’s all,” she says. Tania’s touch rises, up beneath the bottom of Liv’s sweater. Just short of dipping under the edge of her jeans. “How anyone could know you for that long and not do something about it...?”

Liv smiles at the flattery, but shakes her head. She was attracted to Helen, sure. From the start. And there’d been enough moments... usually, during some brief reprise in-between running for their lives or outwitting evil Time Lords. But it hadn’t happened. And, maybe that was for the best. At least what they had couldn’t be ruined by starting a relationship that didn’t work out.

She sighs.

“We’re close. Maybe, it can come off looking closer than it is. But, in all my time knowing her, Helen’s never given me any sign or hint...”

“You’re not exactly _good_ at picking up on hints,” Tania points out.

“I... got the message, eventually.” _When Tania literally asked her out, that is_. Liv sits up a bit, and turns to face her, wondering what could possibly be going on in those deep brown eyes of hers, right now. No matter what Liv feels or felt towards Helen, the last thing she wants to do is hurt the woman she’s with, right now. “You don’t have anything to be jealous of, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I said I was _curious_ – not jealous,” Tania clarifies. “And we never said we were exclusive.”

“I thought that was basically implied?” Liv looks at her, confused. “Or... Is this your way of saying that you’d like to have both of us, at the same time?”

She’s mostly teasing, and doesn’t at all expect the reply she gets. Of Tania sweeping a fall of hair out of Liv’s face, and saying, quite earnestly –

“Only if you do.”

“I think the important thing here, is if _Helen_ does,” Liv says, at a slight laugh – because the idea is intriguing. Arousing. But it’s also a complete fantasy. What _is_ real is what’s right in front of her, and Liv finds herself taking the opportunity to savor that. Leaning in to kiss Tania in a long, slow sort of way. Getting so completely lost in it, that she doesn’t notice the door opening until a moment after it’s shut again. Helen crossing back towards them, boxes in hand.

“Don’t let me interrupt...” Helen says, when they break. A bit unsure of what to do with herself – but smiling, anyway, at the scene before her.

“You’re not,” Liv is quick to assure, shifting up on the couch to make room for her, again, as Helen sets the array of boxes down on the coffee table. She fetches some plates and cutlery in from the kitchen, and soon, Liv’s quite aware of the warmth of both of them, on either side of her, as curries are divvied up, and more wine poured all around.

Some funny quiz show with a confusing points system later, and Helen’s wound up deciding that Liv’s shoulder is, in fact, the most comfortable place to rest her head against. It’s not even close to the first time in their lives that Helen’s done this – so Liv wouldn’t normally pay it much notice, except... Tania _has_ started making Liv wonder if she’s been missing some blatant signs, here.

Chancing it, Liv slowly slides the hand that isn’t currently entwined on Tania’s lap around to settle somewhere low around Helen’s waist. Helen glances down, perhaps surprised, but doesn’t do anything to protest. Quite the opposite – she sinks into Liv even _more_.

“See?” Tania says, quietly close to Liv’s ear. The ghost of breath is followed by the brief press of lips against a particular spot on Liv’s neck.

If someone had ever told her that, someday, she’d find herself lounged between two incredible women who apparently _both_ have a bit of a thing for her...

Still – it might not mean anything. Helen’s probably just tired – or drunk. They’ve _all_ had a bit to drink, by now. So much that the bottle’s gone empty.

Slowly, Liv detangles herself from the two of them and goes to fetch another, from the below the kitchen sink. It’s the kind with the cork in, this time – not a screw top – and her rummage through both the cutlery drawer and the multiple ‘miscellaneous’ drawers turn up nothing.

Bottle but nothing to open it with in hand, she steps back into the living room area, to find Helen lounging back against the armrest, the soles of her socks curled into the side of Tania’s thigh. For some unknown reason, Helen is currently in the process of holding her phone about an arm’s length in the air, while Tania just watches her. Looking like she's trying not to laugh. 

“How do you flip the... oh, right. There it goes.” There’s a clicking sound, from the phone. Like a camera going off. “Well, that _is_ instant. You’re saying there’s an app that’s mostly just full of these self-picture things?”

“How more people can’t tell you’re time travelers...” Tania muses.

“And here I thought we fit in perfectly,” Liv chimes. “Helen – have you seen the corkscrew?”

“Holding part of the TARDIS together, last I saw it.” Helen says, glancing over. Liv’s not even surprised.

“I’ll get mine,” Tania offers, getting up. Just before going, she looks back toward Helen. “If you make an account, I’ll follow you. I don’t think I’ve used mine in forever.”

“What’s she talking about?” Liv sets the unopened bottle down amongst the mostly-empty takeout boxes. Swiping the last piece of naan from the carton it came in and dropping in down on her own plate.

“A photo-sharing site. Come here, I’ll show you.” Helen pulls her down, onto the couch, and holds her in close – using her other hand to fiddle with the phone’s camera again. The camera goes off, before Liv’s really prepared for it.

“Oh, I look terrible.” Liv winces, at the resulting image on the small screen. Helen’s smiling, catching the light like some expert in photography-via-mobile phone. She, on the other hand, mostly looks confused. And is staring off in the wrong direction.

“No, you look good,” Helen insists, genuinely.

“ _You_ look good,” Liv argues. She does, though – the picture, and the Helen whose face is barely a foot away from Liv’s own, her striking grey eyes shining with... something. Desire? Attraction? Her arm is still draped around Liv – and Liv wants to ask her. Needs to. Taking a deep breath, she goes for it. Or aims to, at any rate. “Would you have, if I’d made it more obvious...?”

Helen doesn’t reply. But she does lean in, and brush her lips against Liv’s own. Kissing her in a way that Liv gladly deepens – tasting the mingle of merlot and spice on her tongue. A kiss that feels like _finally_ and leaves Liv feeling a bit floaty, afterwards.

“Does that answer your question?” Helen draws her hand down the length of Liv’s arm, until their fingers tangle together.

It does. And yet, as Tania returns, Liv feels a certain tug of guilt. Tania had said she’d be fine with it – encouraged Liv, even. But she doesn’t want to lose her, either, in case the reality of it turns out to be more than she can take.

“I couldn’t find my corkscrew, either –” Tania begins, dropping back down onto the couch beside Liv. Two guesses said that some of _her_ kitchenware had been co-opted for TARDIS repairs, too. “But I did find Sangria.”

She flourishes the plastic bottle of some type of bright-red, wine-looking substance.

“Where did you get that?” Helen is intrigued.

“From behind a box of expired cereal,” Tania answers. “I think it was Christmas present? Couldn’t say which Christmas ago...”

“Someone bought you what looks like the world’s cheapest bottle of Sangria?” Helen queries.

“Was it Andy?” Liv teases, nudging into her.

“It could have been? I’d forgotten I even had it.” She unscrews the top, pours a glass, and tests it out. “That’s not actually too bad.”

It isn’t, Liv agrees. It’s sort of like a lukewarm Glühwein, in a way.

“There’s something I should tell you...” Liv starts, glancing away from the contents of her glass, and up at Tania.

“Helen likes you back?” She guesses, before Liv can go any further. “Who could have thought?”

She doesn’t seem upset by this development. Which is good. Isn’t it?

Unless it isn’t.

There’s a particular sputter of sound, behind Liv, that breaks her out of this sudden bought of over-thinking.

“Sorry – you two were speculating on whether I liked Liv? How long has this been going on?” Helen wonders to know. “Look, even if I _do_ , the last thing I want is to get in the way...”

“You’re not in the way,” Tania stills her apology, sliding her hand across Liv’s lap, to take in Helen’s.

“You _really_ don’t care, if I... if we all...?” Liv still can’t believe, wanting to be absolutely sure of Tania’s reaction to all of this.

“We’re not all as jealous as _you_ ,” Tania assures, teasingly – still, somehow making the criticism sound _fond_ , and adoring.

“Thanks,” Liv snorts.

“She is, isn’t she? I don’t know why I didn’t pick up on it, sooner...” Helen adds in. This was her life now, wasn’t it? The two of them, talking about her like she _wasn’t_ right here, between them... “The way you reacted to the idea of me and River Song, or when we met Wilhelm Grimm...”

“You’ve met Wilhelm Grimm?”

“He was a bit of an egotistical idiot, really," Liv tells her. "I don’t know what Helen saw in him.”

“He wasn’t _that_ bad... although, he did completely abandon me, the second I turned into an eel...”

“You were an eel?” Tania processes. Or, tries to.

“Long story.” Liv loops her arms around Tania. Just... thankful, really, as she kisses her. There’s something a _little_ possessive, in the way Tania kisses her back. And something a little possessive, too, in the way Helen sweeps Liv’s hair aside and drops a fleet of hungry kisses to the back of her neck. Carrying on, until Liv arcs over to draw those lips and that tongue back against her own, again.

And there’s Tania, sliding up beneath the sweater, over her bra, fingers brushing over one peaking nipple. Kneading and teasing, until she gasps against Helen’s mouth.

She wants them both so much, right now. She’s not entirely sure _who_ undoes the zip and button of her jeans, but soon there’s a press of fingers sliding against her. Seeking. Exploring. And whoever it is, as both Helen and Tania do their best to tease and touch every available inch of Liv Chenka, here on this couch, she’s so ready for both of them to do anything they like to her.

And for her to get to reciprocate in full, and then some. Repeatedly.


End file.
